Pie!

Two posts in one day! But I'm feeling really keen on my pie making mad skillz.

McPal, his boyfriend and I got to our friend Freya's house around two. Her husband picked us up at the subway station, ingredients and tools in tow. Freya and her old roomie were already knee-deep in pie awesomeness by the time we arrived.

I insisted on making my pie crust from scratch and without any mixers. Reason being it was my first ever crust and I don't own any tools at home, so I didn't want to learn with things I don't have. They razzed me, but hot damn if it didn't work out A-OK.

My first pie crust!

With one oven and five bakers, you'd think it'd be hell's kitchen, right? But it wasn't. Our timing was impeccable. As McPal's pumpkin pie was baking, I was sauteing onions and garlic in melted butter on the stove. Then in went the feta, shredded cheddar and fresh chopped spinach.

Roomie's apple pie coming out of the oven,
and McPal's pumpkin pie about to go in.

Freya's house smelled amazing. Holy sweet mother of Sam on a stick. I mean, all that damn pie. My quiche baked for 45 minutes total and sat and cooled for over half an hour. From start to finish it took over two hours to make. It was easy, but it was a real process. But baking with friends was amazingly fun.

All the pies! From top right down: Pumpkin, meat pie, apple pie, ham quiche, custard pie, spinach quiche.


Cutting my quiche ^_^

The day was a success. We made some beautiful pie, but hot damn if we didn't nearly polish it all off. In all I ate about half a pie's worth. Freya ate 3/4 a pie, her husband taking the lead with one whole pie and then some. Of course, they started early. But we were all feeling it. No regrets, but the thought of eating any more pie made us feel nauseous.

And the thing is, I don't eat pie. I had my first pie when I was 23. It was pecan pie at a wine and pie party. I ate it to a round of applause for popping my pie cherry. I haven't eaten it since. But I ate two slices of quiche (Which doesn't count), one slice of custard pie (Which sort of counts) and one slice of pumpkin pie (Which totally and utterly counts). And it was good. It seems I'm now a special occasion pie eater, Christmas and Thanksgiving not being special in the right sense. I guess I now eat pie on days where pie is being celebrated.

I guess that's a little weird. Perhaps a wee bit neurotic.

But whatever. I brought home some pie to the Dude, who couldn't make it. My quiche was praised. Life is good.

Pie

I was invited to a pie making party by my craft club. On Sunday I'll be making pies. Well, rather my friends will be making pies. I'll be making quiche. I've never made quiche before, but I do like to eat it a lot.

The dude has been on my case about how I don't bake, and how I said I enjoy baking. This is true. I said that I both do bake and enjoy it. But the kitchen is small and the Dude is messy in the kitchen (Which makes me feel less inclined to spend any time in there, other than the time I spend cleaning up) and we have few baking utensils and tools at my disposal. So I've not baked at all.

I didn't bake in the last place either, because although the kitchen was larger, the other elements were the same. Actually, we had even fewer baking supplies, so there you go. Excuses, excuses, but valid ones.

But come Sunday, I'll bake, damn it. Granted, it won't be a dessert, but it still counts and I'm rather jazzed about it. I'll buy pie tins, a rolling pin and ingredients tomorrow after the rally, and then I'll make the pie crust dough, and then I'll be all set to go. Huzzah!

I must be getting old where attending a pie party with a craft club serves as weekend excitement. Oh well, fuck it. I've started to gray, I'm allowed to descend into fuddy-duddydom. That reminds me, I need to make a hair appointment yesterday.